Friday, December 10

For the next month I will peer into the distance with one eye in repair, slightly fuzzy like a personal steam room when ever I want. While I wait for my vision to return I have become 'that dude', you know the one. The guy who has lived away from home for several years only to return to the nest. That dude who you hear wispers about, "he is living in his parents basement."

As I was moving in on the first; a couple of buddies were lending a hand when James says with shit eating grin on his face looks at my girl and says; "congratulations you are now your dating someone that lives in his parents basement." For a moment I smiled and the shook my head.

It has been truly the right move for staging before I head off to train. I have been looked after with every detail, the food has been top quality and plentiful and the odd dinner with mom and dad has been a great treat. I think the secret to this whole thing is to know the exact day that you will be leaving and informing all parties involved. No bad blood yet but were really only on day 10 of 40!

Saturday, December 4

I sit in a chair in a dark room with one eye taped shut and the other forced open with some sort of 'clockwork orange device'. I'm calm, but not because I have blocked the next hour out of my mind. I'm calm because adavan courses through my viens. A electric touthbrush like device is lowered toward my eye and begins to 'gently scrub' away the outer layer of my cornea. All my insticnts tell me to close my eye and get the hell out. But my head is strapped in place and my eye is stuck on open. After a few minutes the electric toothbrush is removed and the saturation of b12 and ultraviolent light begins.

My right eye has now undergone corneal cross linking and with some care will be stronger then ever leaving itself imprevious to keratoconus. Since learning that the disease was in a degenerative state I have been plagued with thoughts of blindness. Obviously thinking about the worst case scenario and how triathlon could be done without sight are not positives so I have done my best to just shelf this mental dilemma. But it has literally opened my eyes to people with disabilities, especially at Talisman Centre when I see them rocking out a workout.

As I sat in the chair I imagined that I was the sacrafilical Indian slave in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom!